


Salty Tea VIII: The Darker Side

by Piddleyfangs



Series: Salty Tea: The Corruption of Fire Emblem Awakening [8]
Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Dark, Darkness, Edge - Freeform, Edgy, F/F, F/M, Futafication, Futanari, Futanarification, Other, Seduction, TF, Transformation, i wrote all of this in one night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 18:53:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6090724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piddleyfangs/pseuds/Piddleyfangs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One more depraved, terrible hurrah into the series that launched my life spiralling out of control. The Salty Tea gang isn't funny anymore, as they've pretty much evolved into a demonic power that holds down the whole capital of Ylisse. The men, who I tactfully avoided in my last fic series are converted and added to the roster of those terrible demons~</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salty Tea VIII: The Darker Side

Salty Tea VIII: Our Anniversary (Bonus Chapter)

 

The worst was what they did to Chrom. They hung him up on a public street, and this was back when the streets were still a nice place. The demons gathered around him, all of them still vaguely looking like his allies. They fed him the milk that ruined men before him. He tried to resist, but what little good that did him when the demons were stronger now. Morgan made sure of that, the dreadful bitch. She was dubbed the Empress of Corruption, for how thorough she was, whilst her mother Robin was… Robin was something else entirely…

By the time they were done with him, Chrom was different. Thick breasts, a sopping went cunt dripping onto the floor, and a dick still plenty erect. Chroma was what most wanted to start calling him, but the rebels wanted to honor the memory of the man, and still called him Chrom. Chrom was collared by Severa, and tugged off to go be converted the rest of the way into demon-hood, which required a much more thorough session of sex than they could afford to do on the streets. The streets nowadays are far more controlled, and they could do whatever they wanted on them as they wanted to.

It felt so bizarre, some tiny cluster of men all hiding out in the city, hoping and waiting for a day when they can finally break free. There was Virion, Stahl, Vaike, Donnel, Lon’qu, Ricken, Libra, Basilio, Inigo, Brady, Gerome, and Yarne. Everyone else was already claimed in one way or another. The demons patrolling the streets were only getting more thorough, and more and more people in the city were turning corrupt. They had an army of corrupt demonesses, with long hanging cocks and sharp spears marching down the streets. 

Frederick was the first to go. He gave himself up to them after word reached him of what happened to Chrom. It was foolish, Frederick still could have been of some help to the survivors, seeing he was still a mighty knight, and had seen the Shepherds through their early days. It was Lissa, Lucina, Robin, and “Chroma” who claimed him. Lissa had her cock down his throat, whist Robin and Lucina forced Chroma to mount her old friend and servant. Of course, the whole thing was made public, as a message to those who watched from the crowd. Half were corrupt, the other half were still allowed to be normal. When they were done, they pronounced him Francesca. He as a she was well breasted, and sturdy, though unlike Chroma, her cock was missing. A token of power, some display that Morgan could do as she pleased to bodies, and most likely wouldn’t be giving Francesca cock privileges until she proved her loyalty. To this day, she was still tied up in the center plaza, free for anyone and everyone to fuck, since she so did enjoy serving in her previous life. 

They caught Gaius too, trying to make some rooftop run for some damned reason. He was even worse in his punishment, since they caught his pockets lined with coins and sweets that weren’t his. Cherche found him, flying high in the sky, surveying the rooftops, so it was her choice on what to do with him. She decided it best to “feed” him to her wyvern. Minerva, plenty cocked as the rest, mounted him from behind, whilst Cherche made sure he was plenty stuffed from the throat side. His hair become longer, shoulder length at the very least, while his bangs cascaded over his eyes. He wasn’t very top heavy, but was plenty bottom heavy. “Must be all that candy, huh?” Cherche teased, giving her new toy a slap. Gaius was stamped as Gaia, and you can still hear her moan at the candy shop she’s chained up inside of. 10G, and you can taste the sweet juices from her lower lips, and for free you can feed her some sweets if you feel so charitable. 

Gregor was broken when they found him trying to protect some young girl from a sudden conversion. As Greisha, she is certainly a lot younger looking, though she still has that air of experience to her. They converted the old hardy mercenary to foreign heart throb without disrobing him, so his converters were quite pleased with watching his ill-fitting clothes fall from his now feminine figure, the first thing to plop out being her new huge milky tits. Owain went right down with him, appearing from the alley, sword raised. This dark time was hard on Owain, and then and there he nearly slayed the former allies, until Cynthia stopped him. Owain’s blade stayed long enough for Cynthia to take advantage. She gave him a swift kick, and didn’t stop humping until Owain was Owaya. Greisha is locked up in some dungeon, though rumor has it Nowi now has her in her bedroom, whilst Owain was adopted by Severa.

The dumbest loss was probably Laurent, who was tempted into the whole situation by a chance meeting with his mother. She talked him into the research opportunity this whole deal brought to them, and he fell for it. Laura is what he wants to be called now, and she is already well within their ranks, rumor having it that she is one of the first after Chroma to get her cock back from Morgan. 

Amongst the survivors, though, Inigo was their best man, or well, lady. Inigo was captured by Severa, chance should have it, and raped right out in the street. Her rear was filled and made plenty larger, but she escaped, of course refusing a female name out of some hope they could undo this all, and return to how things were before. She saw it, what Morgan looked like, what they had done to the palace of Ylisse. 

“They’ve torn down all the banners, erecting one that sorta looks like those Grima symbols you see on everything.” Inigo tried to explain, though she often stopped her stories short for a while, so disturbed with her new voice, so irritated. “They’ve already built a new throne. Its made of ebony or something. Its covered in more of those eye symbols. Gods, what happened to Morgan… She has this huge, dragon body? Like, a naga from those stories we used to hear. And gods, mind me for noticing, but her cock was bloody huge! Of course, I didn’t get to see much more since Severa had me on chain and leash, and I really wish I could have gotten a little more into it than I did, but the whole life or death thing sorta made it hard for me to feel the right emotions to make chains exciting.” Inigo rested a few days after that, it still seeming odd to everyone that he was now a she. 

After a few days, it was time for them to move. They were hoping one day to escape the city, but the guard was still too heavy. Gerome returned from scouting whenever he could. He still had his wyvern and flew whenever he could. Cherche was the only reliable enemy eye in the sky, so if they timed things right with when she was busy attending some other matter, they could get away with scouting out the perimeter. “Their defenses could stop another Grima from coming in.” Gerome sighed, shaking his head. “We won’t be able to leave, not for a long time, and our force is too small for what they out there.”

Still, they had to keep moving their base, or else someone would eventually come knocking. They split their group up into three teams. Some went with Gerome through the skies, others took the roof tops, staying hidden, wearing robes and such. The last group took the underground tunnels, scouting out a bar or church or anything that was connected to them in case they had to bid a hasty retreat. In the back of their mind, they knew the tunnel at one point led all the way to the castle, and they wished and they wished that maybe, just one day, they could march down that tunnel and take their friends back. But what chance did they stand against Grima? Lucina and Chrom were gone, Robin was possessed all the same, and their numbers were thinner every day. 

After some loose communication between the ground team and the tunnels team, they found an abandoned church that met all the requirements, and was in a part of town that wasn’t converted yet. They arrived at the gates, and dropped their robes, submitting to a search. These weren’t so much pockets of resistance as they were pockets of untouched air. The city almost seemed good, despite the smog in the sky, the fires from the palace, and the blood on the streets on the way through. The guards left everyone through, happy to find no girl with a cock. Inigo was nervous, but it isn’t like she had a cock. It should be fine letting her in. The air team touched down, and for the first time in a while they could let their guard down a little. 

Morgan wanted these little places gone, that fiendish empress planning on breaking the defenses with an all out assault. She didn’t intend to kill anyone, oh no, she wanted everyone converted, forced over to the demon side. Anyone who could spread news through the city about who was up and who was destroyed. Most the eastern half of the city and the center was converted, with very small blocks still being defended by knights, with extra tight armor girded around their loins. Blocks were falling every day, and just recently the last guard bunker for the east half of the city fell, taking most of the guards who didn’t abandon post with them. Word had it that Morgan was already starting to take small chunks out of the western part. Inigo and the survivors were settling in the western side, in hopes that numbers would be helpful, and that maybe they could somehow rally a more active resistance. A revolt was well needed. 

They unpacked all their things, and struggled to find some bedding. There was a little hall in the back where the priests slept, though their little band was a little bigger than the small staff that kept the church going. Chances are, the priests of that church were the first to start running when Morgan turned into Grima. Priests had the fastest legs for running from demons and sin. Inigo smirked, volunteering to take the floor. She undid a sleeping bag, and laid back into it, taking a minute to let her feet rest. The walk was long, and her boots just didn’t fit like they used to. She’d have to see if there was a boot maker who was still fond of actually making boots.

Gods, Inigo missed it. The night life in this city was killer whenever the party stopped to rest here. After flirting around with Severa, he’d head out, finding the market square was where women of all the lands met, quickly exchanging their goods. Sometimes, what they had for sale was fruits, but other times they offered a story, a sly look, and few kind words, and more often than not a slap to the face. Inigo admired them still, their strength, their worldliness. Merchant women, daughters of merchants, or just noble little girls whose mothers insisted they see the capitol.

They were probably brutalized. Turned to the succubus that roam the streets now, turned away from their pure forms into those… those… Inigo felt the tears on his eyes and figured her rest was going on far too long. Besides, she figured, the ache was gone from her cock that made every fantasy worthwhile. Anymore, her thoughts were a trap that dreamed of capturing her, of tugging her down back into the dirt and stopping all she has worked for. She had to keep looking forward…

Stahl, Yarne, and Lon’qu went out to figure out where they could get food. The supply they brought over from the last place wasn’t going to last them until the next move, and who knows when that was. If they didn’t move before Morgan’s assault on the west of the city, they would end up getting caught, and they couldn’t keep relying on the tunnels. Chroma, Lissa, and Emmeryn all knew about them, and would no doubt have them locked down. 

“I wondered what happen to old sore arse Gangrel?” Basilio asked over the table the remaining group sat at, or moped around. “I mean what, didn’t we recruit his sorry arse, even after all the work we did to see him buried six feet under. Man, I get that Robin and Chrom were trying to be peaceful and fair and all, but man that guy still skeeved me out.”

“They probably got him…” Gerome mused. His talk wasn’t really rousing spirits, especially not Donnel or Ricken. Neither of them had spoken since the whole thing started. “If you don’t see them, they were grabbed.” 

“Hey, we shouldn’t be so pessimistic, right?” Basilio looked around the table, trying to find a hopeful face, but he forgot his company. Gerome, Inigo, and Yarne had all survived a future ruled by Grima, and really couldn’t find a reason to think things were going to get better. None of them had any hopeful advice or ideas. Even Vaike had been quiet for painfully long. Almost everyone was hoping he’d say something stupid, just anything, it could be as fucking brain dead stupid as he wanted, as long as it was just something with an ounce of hope. He never spoke. Libra was at least trying to help, as he was busy at the altar, praying for help from Naga.

Luckily enough, the group came back. Lon’qu had potatoes and carrots. Yarne was able to get some more carrots (which he insisted was his own private supply which he figured he needed direly enough to deem them private) and some fish, and Stahl had the biggest haul, with some noodles, a pot, tea, and a haunch of beef. They’d be able to add this to their current supply, and probably make it for another week. At the half way point of their supply, they figured they’d make a run. 

That night, they had a party. They weren’t planning on it, but Basilio was stomping around the floors of the church, and felt a tile get disrupted beneath him. When he lifted the stone slab, he discovered a whole ale store beneath the church. The place was flooded with barrels of the stuff. Hardy Feroxi booze, Ylisse wine stored for at least twenty years, and even some of the mysterious brews of Plegia, which were a shockingly combination of sweet and sour, some burning the throat in surprisingly fun ways. They cooked a fair portion of the beef, stewed the potatoes and carrots, and filled everyone’s trenchers. 

After such a long time, everyone was finally feeling loose and free. Basilio ranted about how bad he wanted to be free, and promised everyone who helped him get back to Ferox a mile of land to do with as they pleased. Chances are it was to be arctic waste, but Donnel couldn’t help but laugh aloud, planning on setting up quite the nice farm on it. Stahl offered to help Donnel. Inigo let herself give in, this whole affair feeling like her first taste at the night life she adored in so long. She lifted her cup, and took a long swig. 

God it was easier being drunk. Inigo did all the things she used to do. She flirted, she joked, she rose her cup for toasts, and she enjoyed life. She even got a few compliments, people insisting she was the reason they all kept going. She survived. She was still smiling, still happy. They could still get out, they could still be freed, maybe even if they get converted. It wasn’t a death sentence anymore after Inigo came back. They rose their mugs for another toast. Inigo emptied hers of the Plegian brew. It was some brew made from bread wheat. It was rough, but boozy, in a good way. She liked the taste of booze. It was better than that dead taste that hung in her mouth. It was WAY better than salty. 

The booze started doing most of the talking. Inigo was big talk, getting real cute. She was just talking as she did when she was drunk, flirting around more than she should, but she didn’t notice that some of the people she was surrounded by were blushing. She forgot it often, but she was female now, and a pretty fetching one. Tits that filled her shirt until cleavage showed, wide hips that couldn’t be hidden no matter what she wore, and those pretty eyes too. Someone suggested she should dance, and with the alcohol making her head run hot, she couldn’t bring herself to turn down the offer. She was swaying her hips, trying to remember her mother’s moves, but soon enough it just turned into improve. At the peak of it, she was on the table, just letting herself glide however felt hot to her. She grabbed her breasts, and humped the air.

It was all a haze after that.

But she tried, she tried to remember what brought it all to this… Someone brought Inigo’s sleeping bag out to the front of the church when she couldn’t take a step without vomiting. She laid down, and then something happened. It was hard to piece it together, her head was still a whirr, and her legs ached. Not just from the dancing, but oh god from what she did. She thought her dance would be awkward for everyone, now that sex was seen as so evil, but that didn’t stop someone.

Oddly enough, the loins she woke up ontop of was Gerome’s. He was mask-less, his dick still inside Inigo. She unsteadily rose, lifting her head from Gerome’s chest. She was shocked to see two breasts on Gerome’s chest, moving softy as Inigo rose. No… Inigo dully thought. She felt drunk, drunk on something else altogether, some buzz that remained on her even after the booze wore off. She wavered weakly like a torch in the wind. Her eyes felt hazed over, the world was still so blurry. Her tits were leaking milk.

The door burst open, and the demons marched in. Inigo rose from Gerome, finding her sword propped up against a wall. The table they drank at was still standing, one of the glasses was overflowing with milk. Inigo wiped the milk still leaking from her tits, making her nipples thump with that pleasurable sensation. The demonesses eyed her tits and licked their lips. Inigo lunged, and took one with a fast swipe across the chest. She fell to the floor, mortally wounded. Gerome awoke, her senses even duller than when Inigo woke. “I’m sorry!” Inigo yelled, fending off three more demons whilst more still poured in. “Oh my gods, I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” It’s all my fault, it’s all my fault, it’s all my fault! 

Some of them escaped, thank the gods they did. Vaike, Basilio, and Lon’qu were nowhere to be found when they went into the back room. The door to the tunnels was open, and they had Donnel propped up on a long slab of wood, probably hoping to see him off, until they noticed something was off. Probably the fact that Donnel had a fat set of tits on his chest, and his curly blue hair swung down to her back. There was milk still on her lips, and a bulge in her pants. Inigo felt a pang of guilt in her gut, and a guilty rise of pleasure in her chest. She pinched her nipple, soliciting another drip and drop of milk. 

Sully led the charge of the demons that came to capture them, and she was quite happy to find that Stahl hadn’t made it down the path. She sent some of her troops to go search the underground, and had the others hold him down. “So we meet again, eh, Panther?” Sully grinned.

“S-so we do.” Stahl replied. Despite it all, he couldn’t bring himself to hate Sully. Stahl was disarmed and disrobed, left naked for Sully to look over. Sully adjusted herself to be in the same state. The demoness had bull horns, a long horse cock covered in little extra nudges to suggest the demonic taint they had. Her spaded tail swung behind. “You sure are starting to look the part of the bull.” Stahl said with a hard gulp, trying hard to not stare at that massive thing. 

“Ain’t I? Imagine the girls back at the village and what they’d think of it. Morgan and Robin promised we can go pay them a visit after we make sure this city is nice and tightly locked down.” Sully licked her lips, her servants loyally bending Stahl over, letting him find some purchase on the walls so he could take the punishment that was about to be dealt out. “Alright, old sparring buddy, you tell me, what kind of female name would you like to have? I sure hope some of you survivors have been putting something into this! I mean, you weren’t expectin’ to outrun us forever, were you?” 

“I, umm…” Stahl tensed, not sure what it was going to feel like. He turned to Inigo, who was held down and forced to watch, the same situation with Donnel, who was still waking from her sleep. “No, I haven’t really thought about it much. I was kind of hoping we’d escape.” 

“Sorry to kill the hope, but you’re really not going to get away.” Sully joined Stahl in eying up Inigo. Inigo felt her stomach sink, not sure if she was being accused of thinking about going for her sword again, or praised for helping them capture Stahl, for helping them weaken the defenses. Maybe if everyone was still here, and Gerome and Donnel weren’t corrupted, they could have taken Sully and her troops…

Sully gave Stahl’s ass a slap. “Hmm, man, it’s really hard givin’ Stahl a good female sound to it. Gods, feel bad for your parents if they would have had a girl instead of a boy, your name probably would have been pegasus dung.” Sully stroked her chin, idly pressing the tip of her cock up against Stahl’s pucker. “Hmm… Stalla… Estalla… Erm? Hmm… Hmmm!? How about Stahla?” 

“I still sort of prefer Stahl.” Stahl weakly retorted. 

“Ooh, that’s tough.” Sully thrust right inside. 

“Oh gods, please don’t! I yield, I yield!” Stahl yelled, but he might as well swallow his tongue for all the good it would do him. Sully plowed into him, not showing any sign of slowing down until she was satisfied. She grunted and groaned in ways that left Inigo wondering if she even enjoyed doing this, or if fucking Stahl was just a job, just another day in the life of a dark oppressor of the demon empress. After a while of her moans filling the church, she came inside Stahl. 

Stahla, as she was so lazily named, was a pretty busty woman, though Donnel (Dana) still had her beat. Stahla had a chain collar tied around her neck, her long locks of uncombed brown hair given a rough scratch by Sully. She gave a nod to her soldiers and headed out the door. Outside, Severa, Owaya (Owain), and Flavia were waiting, each with their own little cluster of soldiers. Flavia and Owaya took their soldiers and were posted in the church to oversee the efforts to track down the rest. The others were marched away, likely to the palace. 

Inigo glanced as often as she could, trying to avoid looking at Severa. The houses were broken into, the guards who greeted them were gone, or being fucked on the street corners or just in the middle. They often had to walk around the carnage, avoiding fuck-piles in the middle of their path. At times, Inigo had no choice but to glance Severa. She was demonic, with ornate horns, and red skin that shimmered in any light. She wore ornate black armor, that only garbed her arms and legs, leaving her chest and crotch exposed. Her demonic cock hung, almost constantly erect. Inigo trembled looking at it. 

“Stop staring!” Severa barked when she finally had enough after him only sneaking one or two glances. “Unless you intend to bend over and get fucked, you better find something else to look at!” Severa stood tall by her threat, actually order Inigo against the wall. “His shitty look has me all worked up now! I’m waaaay too stiff to be walking! Gawds, take some fuckin’ responsibility, Inigo!” Inigo’s pants were stripped down, leaving her bubble rear free for the fiery demoness to claim her lips again. “I’m still pissed you escaped.” She growled. 

“S-sorry to disappoint.” Inigo tried her best to seem cunning, but it was honestly hard after seeing her last few friends taken away. Even worse, was just how good Severa felt inside her. She couldn’t remember fucking Gerome, and she assumed she had only spiked Donnel’s drink with a jet of milk, so it wasn’t like she had much reference, but dammit all did Severa feel incredible stuffed up inside her. Every place her cock shoved against, it wasn’t that what it touched was the right sensitive spot, as much as it was that whatever it touched become sensitive, some warm terrible aura to it all painted Inigo’s mind obedient. 

She was fucked several times right there in that spot by the yuri queen until her legs were coated white and dripping. Gerome and Donnel tried to look away, but they couldn’t quite manage it. They had their own libidos now, the libidos of those converted over to the side of the Grima empress. Inigo tried to deny it, tried to continue life normally, but her pretending was what hurt her friends in the end. No matter what role she emulated, she was now fit only to live as a filthy, needy slut. She rode Gerome’s cock, both of them too drunk to know better, she forced and converted Donnel. She was one of them. She smiled as Severa unloaded one more time. 

They were brought inside the palace through the center hall. The holy imagery was being erased, paint scraped from walls, statues shattered. Walhart, well… Walla stood in the center. Inigo honestly couldn’t believe the forces that be managed to make an attractive woman out of him, but it certainly seemed the spell did whatever it took to make decently youthful, attractive women out of anyone. Up the steps to the throne room, they found Morgan waiting for them. 

The Grima queen was guarded by Priam, now named Paris, and Yen’fay, who preferred Yen’Fraya. Inigo would have thought the whole damn thing twisted, some mockery of the bounds that made them the greatest army in all the lands before. But now, now she knew she was a part of this whole twisted mockery. She was another entertainer in this freak show, and there was no escaping it. Her pussy leaked and shivered, a mix of ache from Severa, and new found arousal for every pair of tits she spotted.

The Grim queen herself was everything Inigo had made the tales said. She sat on the throne, her long slithering lower body wrapped tightly around the ebony chair made of symbols of Grimleal. Morgan’s eyes glittered, staring down at Inigo. Just that look was enough, and Inigo came. Pathetically, her knees buck, and the feeling of climax left her weak and on the floor. Morgan couldn’t help but laugh. “Old friend, it is wonderful to see you again.” Morgan grinned, resting her chin on her fist. “I was so saddened when I heard you vanished. I regret it all, not giving you the attention you so clearly deserved. I trusted Severa to make you the mindless slut you wanted to be, but phooey on her, since she let you escape.” Morgan glanced over at Severa, and completely detoothed the girl. Before she would have shot back and bit Morgan’s head off, but she neutered with a single glance from her demon queen. 

Morgan sighed, shaking her head. “This time I won’t be taking any chances. I know how badly Severa wants you, however, after last time, really, would you trust her?” 

“No mam.” Inigo said. 

“Hah, charming.” Morgan grinned. “Still, that was so cute, I’ll go lightly on you. Guards, see her over to Tharja to help her join us. We need to ease all those silly questions in her head.” The guards came over, replacing Severa’s soldiers, and marching Inigo away from the throne room. The doors to the throne room slowly slid shut behind Inigo, and for a split second, she swore she could hear Severa being fucked. Her wrists shook, wishing she could reach her folds, begging, just begging to touch herself to those sounds. Severa caused her so much misery, she deserved it. 

Any hopes of escaping from Tharja were eliminated right away when she saw how thick the guard was. They were down in the dungeons, which were converted into a hex laboratory. Down here, Henry, Harriet, rushed around, discovering new terrible things to do with magic. Miriel and her daughter worked over books. Aversa and her demons pondered hexes. And, in the center of it all, Tharja lurked, levitating books over her face, reading over them with increasing and degrading interesting. Her solar system of books would fall apart suddenly, only to be replaced by new orbiting stars with some information of value. And just like the last cycle, the star at the center discarded the satellites, dropping the tomes that meant nothing to her. 

“So, you’re my new charge.” Tharja asked of Inigo. Inigo couldn’t stare at Tharja too long. The woman was covered in pure black markings, terrible old hexes long forgotten, a long cock more menacing than most, and her eyes, her eyes were these horrible whirlpools of purple that felt like they were always trying to hypnotize Inigo. They were so much like Morgan’s, only weaker. Tharja had Inigo shown to a room. 

Inigo had it not so bad. She had own little cell. It was made of stone, but never got too cold, since there was always a fire nearby warming the cell. She had a bed and a shelf of simple books that wouldn’t tax her mind. She even had a few toys on the shelf for her to entertain herself. She could have guests too, on the one exception that anyone she took, she’d have to fuck them before they left. While masturbating and being forced on was easy enough for Inigo, she couldn’t imagine bringing herself to actually fucking any of her guests. 

She almost worked up the guts to call for Chrom, to try and see how much of the king was left, but then she remembered who Chroma was, and she couldn’t bring herself to ask for her. She could never have sex with the her, she just couldn’t do it. Nor Owain, now Kjelle. One day, she was informed that some of her friends were captured. Lon’qu and Brady were brought in. Inigo didn’t know what happened to them, but he couldn’t ask to see them either. She didn’t want to be the reason Lon’qu or Brady were converted.

At night, she dreamt of those who were left. Yarne, Basilio, Libra, Ricken, Vaike… Were they still safe? Maybe they got brave and finally decided it was now or never. They had to run out of the city, or they’ll be captured with the rest of the sweep over the western city. Inigo ate her lunch, and drank her booze. It was to help her calm down and adjust to the new life. She didn’t want to see what Tharja would do to her if she disobeyed. The dark mage was probably just waiting for the day someone disobeyed her. 

One day, something overtook Inigo, and she made a run for it. She couldn’t believe her luck when she did. Tharja, Aversa, all the especially scary people were gone. Inigo darted between the guards that opened her door to remove her. She was faster, more flexible than they were expecting. They were probably hoping Inigo was out of shape, but she found a way to keep herself fit inside that cell. She danced, and did squats against the wall. The cell wasn’t big enough for sit ups or pushups, but she did what she could, and was still in damn good shape. She darted down the halls, and fled blindly. 

The door she barged into was Lissa’s. Sitting on bed with Maribelle was her, the girl who started it all. Lissa was a demoness now, covered in pink skin and two bunny ears out the top of her head. Maribelle was pouring morning tea, the noble woman was a paler pink, with horns that twirled into her curled hair. Inigo shivered, staring down the two demonesses. She tried to think of something to say, something that would make it all worthwhile. How could she justify all this struggle, all this running, condense all down into one thing she could yell at Lissa. Lissa’s heart shaped eyes glowed pink, staring down at Inigo, waiting for the naked, unarmed woman to say something. Inigo kept drawing a blank, the tears coming easy. “You did this…” She said. She was the one who got sick. She was the one spread it. She could have just not fucked anyone, she could have stopped it. No, even more, she should have told someone! She should have. She should have… “Give it back… Please… give it all back. The women, the late nights, the parties… The happy city… The happy Lissa… My friends… Our battle means nothing if… If…” The guards calmly grabbed Inigo. Lissa rose from her bed and followed after Inigo as she was dragged down to the throne room. “No…” Inigo whimpered at Lissa. “Leave me alone…” 

“Inigo, dear.” Morgan spoke clearly. There was less childlike innocence in the voice of the empress. This time, she was much sterner. “We talked about escaping, didn’t we?” Morgan shook her head. Inigo just weakly stared for the longest time. “I sure hope you weren’t hoping to escape? We captured the rest of your friends, by the way.” Morgan motioned to the door, and the rest were brought in. Everyone, everyone… except Yarne. Morgan noticed Inigo’s head clearly counting over the people brought in. “Let me guess, you’re wondering where Yarne is? Well, Panne simply couldn’t wait to get the daughter she never had. Yara, I think his new name is?” Morgan snickered, thousand smaller, more sinister voices echoing right along in her laugher. 

The court assembled in the throne room was there to taunt Inigo. Stahla was there, with a fat dog cock dripping between her legs, a tight collar around her neck. Dona was nearby too, groping at Anna. Oliva was being speared by Gerome, and Owain was bent over by a worked up Severa. Inigo stared up at Morgan as the guards brought her forward, prepping her loins for that fat, dripping, demonic cock. It slid in, a thousand spikes and bumps riding across Inigo’s insides. Morgan’s thrusts each felt like mortal wounds, blows that left her with less fight. Every thrust undid something inside her, leaving her weak. She heard rumors that Chrom was double teamed by Robin and Morgan. A feat like that would be something to see. Inigo had a fair few seconds between her demon-hood and her normal life, wat felt like a blink. Before her heart stopped, and her soul was claimed by Grima, creating another pet, another toy cursed by this hex Tharja and Henry and Robin kept going and spreading, this tragedy Lissa saw begin, Inigo had one more thought, one more thing to say. 

“India…” She gasped. “That’ll be my name.”

**Author's Note:**

> I probably should get sappy here. Hell, I wrote 70,000 words of super dark porn in this series alone, why not get sappy? Thanks. Thank you for being supportive, super nice perverts. Thank you for dealing with my plots, weak attempts at morals, and terribly depraved mind constantly seeking out the darkest recesses of porn. As always, visit saltyteafutas.tumblr.com to push me further down. I'm waiting for you~ J-just like Morgan did in the story (wasn't she cool?!)


End file.
